Thursday, March 12, 2009

11/06/70 is one of those “no soundboard” tapes that all Deadheads have always placed in the Holy Grail category. We pine for the master soundboard reel to come on the scene (if it even exists at all). Considering the miraculous soundboards that have appeared out of the past in recent years, anything is possible. But far beyond the issue of the missing board, this show ranks as one of the best Dead performances of all time.

11/06/70 is another of the infamous “usher tapes.” Ken Leigh worked at the Capitol Theater, and was able to set up to record at the balcony rail. Like 06/24/70 and 11/08/70, this tape is pretty sublime, all 1970 caveats considered. The room ambience is quickly absorbed into your ear’s psyche, and before long you are feeling very much perched on the lip of the balcony, taking everything in.

From this date we have not only the entire show, but the soundcheck as well (a unique window into the pre-show Dead playing to an empty house in 1970). The acoustic set proper is steeped in that warm, relaxed, and inviting atmosphere so prevalent from this era. Here, by the end of 1970, the acoustic sets are somehow even more hypnotic than they were in the Spring. The audience is so receptive to the music, and it is clear that no one is in any hurry at all. Understandable, as this was the third time in 1970 that the band brought its circus to this venue. No one in the audience is worried by this point that their beloved psychedelic monster has been swapped out with some lazy, front porch sitting, good ol’ boys with acoustic guitars. Everyone is in it for the long, sweet ride.

For me, the slow rolling Black Peter is extremely satisfying. Garcia has us all sitting on his lap in rapt silence as he tells his tale. By the end of the set, with its lovely Uncle John’s Band closer, we are fully inducted into the relaxed personal space of the Dead’s musical universe.

From here, the air of intimacy, with its folksy, country vibe, is electrified by the New Riders Of The Purple Sage. The Riders music comes on, much like the undoubtedly electrified crowd, pulsing and throbbing under the twanging bounce of David Nelson’s finger picking, and Garcia’s siren-like hypnotic pedal steel playing; his notes sticking together like a liquid gossamer cotton candy of country-infused psychedelia. John “Marmaduke” Dawson’s vocal delivery on covers and his own compositions lends its own slightly twisted bent to everything as well.

The Riders wore psychedelic music like a subtle cologne or bandana under a hat. You wouldn’t know it was there upon first glance, but after a few passing songs, you would eventually see that all these multi-hued undertones were there the whole time. Syncopated, snaking downbeats, interweaving guitar licks and harmonies, and a pedal steel that seems to smile with a strobe light rainbow playful sort of knowing, all remain veiled within the trappings of some good old country rock music. The Riders packed a deep psychedelia into the cracks and crevices of their music, allowing it to permeate everything, occasionally casting it out into full view, and always using it to reach miles into the listener’s heart and soul.

They deliver everything beautifully, and Jerry’s steel playing is gorgeous throughout. You can easily get lost in Portland Woman, All I Even Wanted, and The Weight. And the infectious Whatcha Gonna Do, Lodi, and Louisiana Lady are each stellar.

Then comes the electric Dead set. It’s as if some enormous octopus of boiling energy has invaded the theater. The band opens with Casey Jones, and the crowd comes instantly alive; the Dead strutting along with gusto.

One of my favorite passages of this front portion of the electric set is the China Cat Sunflower > I Know You Rider. This song pairing rides the borderline between the Psychedelic beast and the Americana/Folklore energy beautifully. China Cat, with its carnival wheel turning spokes flashing colored lights and bubbles, twists and turns its way through the air. All of the instruments sound wonderful. Bobby’s guitar flashes, Phil’s bass rumbles, and Garcia is riding his white hot beam of thick jeweled tone, so typical of 1970. The interweaving patterns slowly work their way into more formal paths as they angle into I Know You Rider, and the music lifts itself on the back of Jerry’s solo into one joyous passage after another. We can feel the audience lock into the energy, and that unmistakable urge to smile washes over us as Jerry rides the beam again. By the end of Rider, the spell is fully cast. The lines between the crowd and audience are blurred. The entire family steps up and marches directly into Truckin’. And a little while later into the set, things just keep getting better.

The show closes out with a titanic portion of brilliant Grateful Dead music:

Good Lovin’ finds the band’s true leader, Pigpen, stepping into the spotlight. They quickly kick their way through the tight, infectious cover and head into a drum solo. The thunderous rhythms cool way down and things simmer into The Main Ten. The beautiful roots of Playin’ In The Band’s theme stretch back a ways before the actual song was ever introduced into the rotation. Called The Main Ten, based in no small part, I’m sure, on its ten beat measure, this wonderful little theme gets explored in 1970 from time to time, and here it works like a drug seeping into our bloodstream. It takes us down an unexpected path of blissful, haunting grace. While it never quite blossoms into a full on improvisational jam, the Dead work the theme as a potter might sculpt clay on a wheel. Gentle caresses embrace the theme, slowly forming it into a more and more structured thing of beauty. It is short lived here on 11/06/70, but hypnotic all the same. As mysteriously as it appeared, it is gone, back into Drums on the way back to Good Lovin’. The end portion of Good Lovin’ is full of that sweaty, sultry confidence that the Dead wore so well in 1970. The jam crackles along as Garcia reaches for the sun and explodes in a shower of electricity and raw power.

Alligator sets the band down the long home stretch of this show. It flares with a swampy, dark, voodoo heat. The jam following the formal song section calls to hidden shadowed magic. It winds its way down long liquid rivers which eventually form into beautiful and gentle melodies, the entire electric beast showing that it can hold a delicate flower without completely consuming it in fire. But the fire is there, nonetheless, and that smoky, sultry voodoo dance slips directly into Not Fade Away, with the band igniting again.

Not Fade Away > Goin’ Down The Road Feelin’ Bad > Not Fade Away is still a very new thing for the Dead at this stage of 1970. But just as we could feel the absolute perfection of the pairing back on 10/23/70, here it is even more fully locked into an archetypical example of the Grateful Dead’s own personal sound. Goin’ Down The Road keys right back into that Americana/Folklore we found earlier in I Know You Rider. And it is this wonderful juxtaposition of elements – folk against voodoo fire – that reflect the entire evening’s performance, and in fact, the entire nature of the band by the end of 1970. The multi-facetted jewel is ever turning in on itself. When Goin’ Down The Road slides into a Mountain Jam (built off of Donovan’s “There Is A Mountain”), the music takes on a certain level of spiritual beauty as it flows forward. It careens into a near shower of complete Feedback, as if the band knows that Caution is coming, but then remembers that they planned to wrap back into Not Fade Away. It’s a wonderful little passage. NFA returns, finishes up, and then the pure heart of the Grateful Dead steps out of the mist and tears down all barriers between the music and the souls in attendance.

Caution rises and demonstrates what can be considered one of the deepest levels of this band’s musical core. Forever, the Dead were using psychedelia pinned to bluegrass as one of their most elemental launching pads into their own true nature – a place where their guiding muse could take over and freely express itself. It is this thematic undercurrent, and another which was born in Dark Star, that display the ultimate power that this band’s music had over itself, and the fans in attendance. This is yet again a pure Grateful Dead church service; though this ceremony is one of wild, primitive power. For the rest of the show there is an endless tug of war between music and the molten hot, liquid chaos of Feedback singing the song of galaxies being born out of exploding stars. Spiraling fractals come and go while the music plays down to its own base building blocks with Pigpen playing wicked harmonica and the drummers shuffling along. Primal Dead at its finest.

When Pigpen finally announces that all you need is “just a touch,” the world folds in on itself, whipping us into unfathomable wormholes, the universe birthing chaos and completely consuming the music altogether. We are spit out on the other side into an even faster dance between structure and madness until knowing one from the other is hopeless. The battle continues for what feels like centuries, with Garcia’s personal being growing to fill every open space of air in the hall. Down to a whisper, Phil flips the switch over to Lovelight, and for the next 17 odd minutes the entire evening peaks continually while the wheel continues to turn, blurring form and chaos into one.

Like a freight train, this Lovelight powers down the track. Containing Pigpen’s famous “Bear Rap” and wonderful peaks and valleys throughout, the band seems to endlessly catch themselves in whirlpools of musical riffs turning in tight circles, stitching intricate colors together into a tapestry. With a final flourish of searing flame and showering starlight it all finally ends. Utterly spent, it is hard not to come away unchanged from this quintessential Grateful Dead show from 1970.

7 comments:

Hey there - loving this show - hadn't dug it out in ages... What do you think as far as whether there was an early show/late show on this night (and the night before)? The tape doesn't seem to fit it as it is, but deadlists and the compendium seem to think there were two shows. What do you think?thanks - JT

Well he was talking about the fillmore east there. There were definitely some early show/late shows at the capitol theater port chester in 1970, as the stub from the famous 6/24/70 late show says it starts at 12 midnight. I was wondering about this run, though... deadbase and deadlists both show early and late shows on the 6th and 7th. Wait actually I just found a copy of the poster and it looks like all 4 shows started at 8pm... that is at http://www.deadlists.com/posters/1970s/19701106.htmlSo maybe I answered my own question... just one awesome show!

I always thought that the 6th and 7th "late shows" were a second electric set after the usual acoustic>NRPS>electric format (whereas 6/24 seems to have been two totally separate shows?). Ah well. Dynamite music to be sure! I'm still going to wave that flag for Oct 5, underrated possibly due its brevity (MIA acoustic set and the final stretch of the jam is chopped up)... one of my favorite Dark Stars of the year, nevertheless, and who would argue with Truckin>O1>Dark Star>Stephen>NFA/GDTRFB>Lovelight? Hell, just get the whole run and soak yourself in it. Excellent writeup as usual, noah!

any fan of 1970 Dead shows should also make sure to check out the Capitol Theater show from 11/8/70, which contains all sorts of great stuff like: the only GD versions of Mystery Train, My Babe, and New Orleans, the final versions of Operator and Main Ten, the first GD Around and Around, the final acoustic Uncle John's (and the last acoustic set until 1980) an excellent Searchin', good versions of Dark Star and Dancin, etc etc

11-6-70 has been one of of my most treasured shows since I first starting accruing various parts of it in cassettes back in 1972. It has taken decades apparently to finally square away the actual content of this show. Thank you for your analysis and praise of this show, but I believe some additional commentary is necessary, ... that you perhaps have overlooked a couple of things.First off, I have read the various narratives from those who have lovingly put together the complete show and shared the history of the recordings. It is claimed that there is only one source recording, and that claims of a second alternative recording (of the first electric set only?, BTW) are actually incorrect. I disagree. The first tape I got of this had the electric set without the Good Loving sequence. It was a very nice recording, with tons of *not* muddied low frequency fidelity. Much later I got the other version, the one currently in circulation, and it is vastly inferior in fidelity, and I believe from a different source.The second thing I wish to comment on is that there are several tremendous musical highlights that have been overlooked in the review. First, the China Cat -> Rider is one of the very best. When Jerry elbows Bobby out of the China Cat jam because he can't wait any longer, he finds a smoking riff that Phil picks up on that I've never heard in any other version. But the real highlight is the phenomenal second guitar (final) guitar break before the end of the song. This is one for the ages, where the majesty of what this band was capable of is evident. Jerry's soaring guitar, with the boys underneath propelling him further forward has to be heard in good fidelity to be fully appreciated.Another first set highlight is the passionate, soulful rendition of Candyman. In my opinion, the best I've heard.Also, the Sugar Magnolia has a vitality and energy that is hard to match. That Jerry was truly in the zone is evident in how flawlessly he bridges the pause between the guitar solo and the ending vocals (for a brief time the band didn't have a silent pause for dramatic effect). This was never done better than on 11-6-70. Again, the present audience tapes do not capture the brilliance.Lastly, the main highlight of the show is the jam out of Alligator that finally *erupts* into what can best be described as a musical orgasm, where they "find" Not Fade Away. This musical eruption is initiated telepathically by both Jerry and Phil, and remains one of the very best musical moments of the band bar none.One last comment. In the first incarnations of this performance that I was able to get a hold of, the Alligator -> NFA jam started amid some intense jam, with several splices here and there. It was maddening. Each time I got a copy there were differences!Thanks to the folks who have sorted all this out, it turns out that the initial--*awesome*-- mystery jam that eventually sequewayed into the 11-6 jam was actually part of the NFA jam from the previous night, 11-5-70!So, while I hold 11-6-70 as perhaps my favorite all-time show, I have to add the caveat that some of the previous night is equally great.